


Redemore Field

by Wander Riordan (lferion)



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: Gen, Noble Death, Song - Ballade, kingship, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-04-25
Updated: 1997-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-08 13:44:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lferion/pseuds/Wander%20Riordan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"On this day was our good king Richard piteously slain and murdered to the great heaviness of the city." - The Aldermen of the City of York, 22 August 1485.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redemore Field

O Cecily, Margaret and Anne,  
Of Dickon I have no good word  
Traitor turned hath Buckingham  
And a king been put to the sword.

On Redemore Field the mist lies thick  
And cold the dawn comes stealing drear  
The August sun too soon will prick:  
Concealment banish from the mere  
As rank on rank with horse and spear  
Arrayed for war five armies stand.  
The silence cracked by trumpet clear  
They thunder forth across the land.

The Dragon of Cadwallader  
Cries challenge fell, bold purpose sealed  
His Beaufort blood will not endure -  
Plantagenet he would make yield.  
The Argent Boar doth take the field  
So young in years, yet old in grief,  
Annointed sovereign bright revealed  
Defending all he holds in fief.

Bold Brackenbury stoutly shields  
Great Cheney falls before his might  
With Talbots snapping at their heels  
The Royal Household spurs the fight.  
But though their loyalty shines bright  
The Ragged Staff full false is shown  
And Crimson takes against the White  
All in his wake is sorrow sown.

The Golden Broom is here cut down  
And blighted roses white and red  
Who can but mourn the once-bright crown  
That rests now on Dark Tudor's head?  
The Cat, the Rat, they both are dead  
And loyal Lovell banished far  
The Norfolk Lion too hath bled  
And quenched is Oxford's blazing star.

O Cecily, Margaret and Anne,  
Of Dickon I have no good word  
Traitor turned hath Buckingham  
And a king been put to the sword.


End file.
